


puzzle piece

by Narci



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Friendship, Gen, Hunger Games AU, Hunger Games Fusion, Hurt Tony Stark, Kid!Pepper, More angst, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric, Vague ish Violence, kid!Tony, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23007622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narci/pseuds/Narci
Summary: ‘They want charm, strength, and brutality. They want victors with a capital V. So, though District Three tributes usually survive through the first blood bath, they aren’t expected to win.’-Or why Tony is the perfect fit for a rebellion.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, James “Rhodey” Rhodes & Tony Stark & Pepper Potts, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark
Kudos: 32





	puzzle piece

**Author's Note:**

> sry y’all, this is a mess. i feel like i am responsible for telling you that. like i like it, but it’s really not my best. i am honestly just happy that i finished it—i am like the flakiest person alive! 
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoy it regardless!  
> \\(*´꒳`*)/
> 
> xxx
> 
> ¡warnings! for violence, death, and angst
> 
> (but that should be obvious cause this is the hunger games)

-/- puzzle piece -/-

  
  
District Three wasn’t exactly known for fearsome tributes. Sure, they had a few victors, but they weren’t like District One, Two, or even Four. There were rarely, if any, volunteers, and most kids that were chosen just accepted their fate. The District usually produced whip quick tributes, but brains aren’t exactly what the Capitol wants in the games. They want charm, strength, and brutality. They want victors with a capital V. So, though District Three tributes usually survive through the first blood bath, they aren’t expected to win. 

The 69th annual Hunger Games wasn’t exactly unique at first glance. The Reapings were mostly uneventful. Volunteers from One and Two. A female volunteer from Four. No dramatic reactions save from the occasional sob. Most of the tributes were older, (which gave some mixed feelings because sure, young kids get the chance to live another year, but can you imagine how it must have felt for the tributes that only had one Reaping left?) the Careers stood out as always, and no one else was particularly impressive. 

However, District Three surprised everyone. The female tribute, a strawberry blonde named Virginia, took her new role with grace. She walked up to the stage with fire in her eyes and ice in her chest. A choked shout followed her. Tears sprung to her eyes but refused to fall. She had always been ready for the day her name was called. She hadn’t been hoping for it, but she wasn’t about to let fear rule her actions. Only the strong survived. 

After some short questions, the Capitol announcer not-so-fondly referred to by District 3 residents as Dr. Doom pulled a name from the male’s bowl with an over dramatic flourish. A smile crossed his mouth as he read the slip of paper, “James Rho-“ 

“I volunteer!” The scream silenced the square because Three isn’t a Career District. Teenagers don’t just volunteer to die in Three. It was expected to be shocking; everyone was surprised. Well, except for Virginia Potts. She just tensed and did her best to control the grimace trying to make its way into her face. The task required Herculean strength and focus—especially when the voice repeated itself, suddenly much closer to the stage, “I volunteer as tribute.” 

Doom watched the boy climb the stairs with uncharacteristic patience. He waited to speak until the boy was standing perfectly still next to the female tribute. “A volunteer? Excellent! And what is your name?”

“Stark. Tony Stark.” The microphone barely caught the mutter. A blank look given by Victor Von Doom had the teen repeating himself. “My name’s Tony Stark.”

“Oh. Oh, my! Would you perhaps be related to Howard and Maria Stark?” Doom looked positively radiant as he spoke. 

“Yeah, they’re my parents.” 

“What a fantastic turn of events! Doom is sure everyone here remembers Howard and Maria. They were stars. Doom is ecstatic to see you up here! And as a Volunteer! Even better. Though, that begs the question, why did you decide to volunteer, young man?”

Tony looked closed off and charmingly open at the same time. It was a unique blend of confidence and arrogance, a Stark speciality some would later say. “Well, the Hunger Games is all about strength. Only the strong survive. It just makes sense that I volunteer; Stark men are made of iron.” 

“Fantastic resolve! Doom will look forward to this year’s Hunger Games! It is sure to be entertaining.” With those final words, the crowd was dispersed, and the two tributes were led away. 

The District tribute parade through the Capitol was magnificent if the deeper meaning was ignored. Virginia and Tony were dressed in glittering reds and golds. Cheers broke out as they went by. Privately, the District Three mentor watched the parade on tv and thought to himself that they just might have a chance this year.

A few days later, their scores were released. Virginia got a remarkable 8. Tony got a 7. They didn’t talk about their scores after that, but the excited audience of the Capitol gossiped about it up until the interviews. They were broadcasted everywhere. With older tributes, came certain expectations. Interviews should be more entertaining and polished. Tributes should be even more beautiful and deadly. 

Once again, Tony Stark surprised the entire audience with his actions. As the youngest of the lot, most people expected a bit more nerves or energy. Well, Tony had energy alright. Nerves, not so much. He spoke with the ease of a person who’d been in the spotlight for years. 

“Well, we never actually got to know you! I don’t even know your age!” The host, Natalie Rushman, spoke every word with the excitement of a first timer though she was far from it. Her flame red hair bounced as she tilted forward to listen to his response.

“I bet you want to, huh? I’m twelve.” Natalie gasped in (fake) shock. Tony smirked and continued, “I know! I seem older, but it’s the truth, I swear.” 

“So, we all know you bravely volunteered. But is there more to it than simply testing your mettle?” 

“Well, I gotta admit; I was looking forward to meeting you as well,” a wink followed the words and the crowd reacted loudly with excitement.

“Oh? Is that right?” There was the lightest bit of irritation in the red head’s voice, but only enough for Tony to hear. “No other reason? You weren’t volunteering in place of someone?”

Tony didn’t hesitate for a moment, “Nope. That was all me.” 

Knowing that she’d hit a wall with that line of questioning, Natalie moved on, “Ah, but not exactly. I believe you said ‘Stark men are made of iron’, that’s something your father used to say, isn’t it?”

“Of course. But where do you think he got it from?” A loud roar burst out in the auditorium. “Just kidding. He used to say that all the time, I guess. I wouldn’t really know; I was just a baby. But someone told me that he used to say to me, ‘Stop your crying. Stark men are made of iron.’ Apparently, I never stopped when he told me to, I just stared at him blankly with snot and tears running down my cheeks, and my mom would laugh and laugh. I don’t know, it just stuck with me.”

The crowd quieted with his words. Most people of the Capitol remember Howard and Maria. They were unlikely favorites for the 57th Hunger Games. They made it to the top three only to be brutally murdered by someone they had tentatively allied with. It was understandably an unpopular, but very entertaining, plot twist, and now, twelve years later, no one knew how to feel about the Starks’ child being on the stage they once stood. But there he was, finished with training and given a shockingly average score, yet still confidently declaring his intent to win. 

Sensing the crowd’s shifting mood, Natalie reached out to place one pale hand on Tony’s knee in faux comfort. “You must miss them. Anyone who saw them compete would, so there’s no doubt you do.”

“I never really knew them,” Tony replied with thinly veiled irritation. The words seemed innocent enough, but could definitely be taken in a more rebellious way. Natalie realized that and moved on before anyone could think on his answer too long. 

“Now, I’m sure you’ve had time to meet the other tributes. What do you think? Are you planning to enter an alliance with anyone?” 

Tony let out a chuckle that was only slightly strained, “If I told you that, I’d lose all my mysterious charm.” He followed the words up with a wink in the audience’s direction. 

“Nothing? You have to give us something! Just something to, hmmm, look forward to, let’s say.” Rushman seemed to be getting a tiny bit desperate, but only enough for those who were paying close attention to tell. Tony knew. It was evident in the way he continued to smirk—the way he leaned back and spread out on the interview chair without a word. 

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing. My ally and I are going to be the hottest subjects in the game. You can look forward to that.” And then the interview was over and Tony left. The crowd was the loudest it had been all night when Tony was escorted off the stage. Wherever he had been, there was a golden shimmer of glitter, and Natalie couldn’t help but glance at it in annoyance. 

Virginia Potts was an angel when compared to Tony Stark. She answered questions beautifully. She was polite. However, the crowd seemed to copy her and quiet down as well. Virginia hadn’t been sure if that was good or not, you could tell by the way she smiled and waved on her way out. Calm could be good, but a loud crowd was always more likely to procure sponsors.

The short wait until the game ramped up the Capitol’s anticipation and excitement. The citizens had already picked their favorites. It was a startlingly split decision. Obviously, most bets were on the District 1 and 2 tributes, but quite a few people voiced support for Tony Stark, the youngest tribute of the year. Of course, that could all change without a moment’s notice.

The 69th Hunger Games was set in a dessert. Fourteen tributes died within an hour. Sixteen total were gone by the end of the first day. Oddly enough, the arena was cold in the daytime and burning hot at night. It was a dangerous switch. One tribute died of hypothermia, and all the onlookers wished they hadn’t seen it happen. After that single death, it seemed as though the daytime temperature rose at least a few degrees. No one wanted a Games without confrontation, after all. 

Tony Stark was by himself the first three days. He scraped by. Luckily enough, he stumbled across cactuses on the second day. He made camp there for the night while he planned out the next day. There was silence coating the night. He didn’t talk, and the anthem didn’t play. No one died the second day. The audience was practically biting their nails when Tony took off in a seemingly random direction as soon as the sun rose. He seemed determined to find something, or someone? 

On the other side of the arena, there was the classic Hunger Games conflict. The anticipated violence. Three more tributes were brutally killed before the artificial sun reached its highest position in the sky. With so much action in the first three days, the game makers let the remaining five dawdle for a day or two before intervening. Tony was back at the cactus patch, he had returned on the fourth night for no apparent reason, he was messing with some small creation in his hands when he heard the tell-tale swish of feet through sand. 

Immediately on guard, Tony had jerked around to locate the noise. About thirty feet away was Virginia. Everyone watching still remembers his face when he saw her. Still remembers him dropping what he had been working on and running towards her with a shout of ‘Pepper!’ It was the most joyful they’d ever seen the twelve year old. He had tackled her in a hug. 

There was a moment of silence where Tony kept hugging her. Then she coughed and smacked his shoulder. He pulled away with a slight frown, and they stood up together. As Tony was wiping sand off his clothes, a sisyphean task by all accounts, he took a long look at ‘Pepper’. She looked exhausted. There was blood crusted in her hair that he refused to comment on. 

“Where have you been?” He asked her jokingly. She smiled and shoved his shoulder. 

“Same place you have. This desert’s pretty big, you know.” 

He laughed and pulled her over to his half camp/half lab. Picking up his earlier fixation he showed it to her with a grin so wide it was probably painful. 

“I made it. It’s a long range energy emitting device. I just need to charge it. It gets power from the sun, but really slowly, so I haven’t been able to do much while I wait for it. I don’t have any weapons otherwise, so… anyway, if you need water, these cactuses have a ton inside them.” 

Pepper cut him off before he suffocated himself with words, “Alright. Tony, do you know how many tributes are left?”

“Five. Me, you, the female District 1 tribute, and the two from District 4. Why?”

“I just don’t think the game makers are going to give you enough time to charge your,” she gestured awkwardly to his invention, “that. Maybe we should have a backup plan?” 

“I already have a backup plan.” Tony looked suspicious as hell when he said that. He shifted his weight to the left and looked away from her. 

“You do?”

“Of sorts.”

“Of course, Tony. You have a backup plan ‘of sorts’, and I’m just gonna go with it. This is what the Hunger Games has made me.” Tony looked offended and glared at her.

“Come on, Pep. I have good ideas. I make good plans!” The twelve year old’s voice cracked on the last word, and he blushed immediately. Pepper laughed and looked up at the sky.

“Good? Your ideas are always terrible; you just somehow end up making them work. Rhodes can attest to that.” With those words, they both grew silent. A serious air drifted through them.

“Rhodey makes just as many bad choices as I do,” Tony whispered lightly. The cameras just barely picked it up. He had turned to look at the sky as well. 

“Nothing he does will ever top this one, though.”

“I know, Pep.” 

“He’ll never forgive you if you die.” 

“I know, Pepper.”

“He’ll never forgive himself if you die.”

“Fucking hell, I know! I just- I couldn’t lose both of you, okay? I couldn’t just let you two go off and die without me!”

“How do you think he feels now?” Pepper replied calmly in the face of his anger. 

“Proud, alright? I finally did something worth remembering. Rhodey’s my friend, and he’s my family. If I could’ve, I would’ve volunteered for you, too.”

“I’m glad you couldn’t.” Tony had started crying at some point, and Pepper seemed surprised to notice that she had tears rolling down her cheeks as well.

“One of us has got to win this. For him.” Pepper said as she studied Tony’s belongings and poured out her own bag. Together, they had Tony’s device, two thermal jackets, a small paring knife that Tony had used to cut cactus, a jar of unidentified pink liquid that Pepper had grabbed from the sand two days ago, an empty water bottle, a small store of dried fruit and meat, a wickedly sharp dagger, and a bright blue baggie of what Tony thought was poison goo to put on projectiles. 

“You,” Tony whispered to the gently stooping sun. Pepper didn’t seem to hear him, but the audience did. Multiple hearts broke at the emotion in the word and the meaning behind it. 

Without hearing his declaration, Pepper questioned the blue bag, “Hey, Tony? What’s this?”

He glanced at the item she held carefully. “Oh. I think it’s a poison to go on arrows?”

“No, that can’t be. I spent hours at the poison station, I never saw anything like this.” 

Tony scrunched his eyebrows and took the baggie from her. “You sure, Pep?”

“Absolutely.” 

He smiled lightly and opened the bag.

“Then I’ll just have to trust you.” And he stuck his finger directly into the goop. Pepper gasped and yanked his hands apart. The baggie held in one and thin blue gel on the other. 

“What the hell, Tony?” Pepper asked. She kept hold on his wrists just in case he wanted to try something dumb again. 

“I said I trusted you, and you were right. This definitely isn’t poison. It’s something Howard invented actually. It works as a power source, Pep. I can use it to jump start my repulsor!”

“Your what?” It was hard to stay serious in the face of Tony’s ecstatic expression. Pepper attempted confusion admirably, but she just looked entertained to the viewers. 

“My device! My weapon!”

“Really? That’s great!”

Tony’s wrists were released from Pepper’s grasp, and they both hurriedly sat down in the sand while Tony used the paring knife to pry open a compartment on the side of his so called weapon. Other than the twelve year old’s hummed rendition of some rock song nobody really knew, the two tributes sat in silence. 

Finally, Tony yelled in wonder as he pulled his device over his fingers to settle on his palm. Pepper watched as he aimed at the sand between his calves and fired. The result was near instantaneous; the sand literally melted—it turned to glass within minutes. Pepper and Tony just stared at the spot blankly for a moment. Then they turned their heads and made eye contact. That reaction was instantaneous too. 

“Oh my god! Tony, you did it! That was amazing!”

“Oh my god, Pep! It worked!”

The kind of went back and forth excitedly for a while before they noticed the temperature picking up and the sun going down. 

“Wanna sleep in shifts? With so few tributes, they’ll probably start pushing us together. We shouldn’t risk sleeping out in the open at the same time.” All of Tony’s words made sense, but the reminder of where they were, what exactly Tony’s ‘repulsor’ was for, made Pepper silent for a full minute. 

Weakly, she replied, “Yeah, Tony. Let’s do that. You can sleep first. I’ll wake you up soon, alright?”

“Okay, Pep. Just let me know,” Tony seemed hesitant to go to sleep. Whether that was because he was in the Hunger Games, or just because of Pepper’s tone when she spoke, was unsure. Nonetheless, he quickly fell asleep in the warming sand. Hesitation be damned. 

The rest of the night passed relatively uneventfully. 

Before Pepper woke Tony up, she had some time to think. She seemed to come to some sort of decision. Her eyes hardened. She blinked slowly once and turned her head to look at one of her best friends in the entire world. She watched him sleep silently for what seemed like ages before lightly jostling him with her foot. 

“Tony, wake up. Let’s switch. Don’t fall asleep on watch duty, alright? Our lives actually depend on it,” Pepper tried to lightly joke. Tony looked a bit melancholy, but he still responded perfectly, “When has not sleeping ever stopped me?”

“Never, Tony. It never has.” And the blonde seventeen year old fell asleep in no time at all. Tony tried just sitting around and waiting for the sun to rise, but he quickly grew bored and started fidgeting with his repulsor. That helped pass the time. 

Tony didn’t end up needing to wake Pepper, the sudden light and coldness did that all on their own. She pulled herself up and did her best to shake out the sand in her hair. 

“So…” he started, “you said my plans suck. Do you want to come up with a plan for today?” 

Pepper gave him an admonishing look and started packing up their stuff. 

“Wait, Pep! I’m being serious. What’s the plan?”

With a sigh bigger than Tony, she looked up at the early morning sky. Pepper seemed to be asking someone for strength. “Let’s just walk around and see if we find anything. I’m sure something will happen.”

“Ahhh, okay. We’ll take the path of least planning. A path I, myself, prefer most times. I’m surprised you want to take a trip through though. Usually, you like goals.”

Pepper scoffed and reached out to ruffle Tony’s brown hair aggressively, “I still like goals. We actually have a goal already. Don’t die. That’s our goal, okay?”

Tony hummed in temporary capitulation. They started trekking across the seemingly endless desert as the sun rose. 

After maybe three hours of walking, Pepper managed to pull herself together enough to speak. “Tony, what did you do the first few days?”

“Hmmm, not much. I found some bits and pieces of tech. That’s really about it—I didn’t run into anyone before you.” Pepper bit her lip as she looked up towards the contrary cooling sun. Tony definitely noticed the motion, but, for some reason, he stayed silent until Pepper decided to say whatever she needed. 

“I did.”

Tony let a confused note escape his throat. “What do you mean?” But asking was unnecessary. It was obvious to everyone what Pepper was referring to, and the direction the conversation would soon take was even more apparent. A flicker of realization ran across Tony’s face. Perhaps he had just recalled the dried blood in his friend’s hair. No viewer could be absolutely certain.

“I ran into someone.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So, um. I just wanted to tell you that no matter what happens, you have to be careful, alright? You can’t trust anyone in this place.” Tony gazed at his friend for a solid minute before nodding hesitantly. 

“Alright, Pep.” That was it. No further questions. No leading statements. Nothing else needed. Pepper teared up and turned abruptly, so she could hug the younger tribute. 

“Tony, you have to make it h-“ “Pep! Get down!” 

A loud hum. Tony tackled Pepper to the still slightly warm sand. They quickly adjusted to the new position. Pepper just barely got a look at the lone tribute that had attacked them before the warning hum started up again. She couldn’t react because she had no idea what the tribute’s weapon was. Tony didn’t have that problem. 

“It’s a version of an advanced sword my father invented but never officially produced. He said it wasn’t the future he was looking for. The hum is the metal superheating the air around the blade. You have to disable the heat function before you can touch it because it can cut straight through muscle.” 

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” Tony leapt up in the last second he had before the blade contacted skin. 

“Stark!” The male tribute hissed. Tony didn’t recognize him. He probably should have, but he couldn’t do much about it at that point. 

“That’s me,” he responded with a wheeze as he dodged another swipe. Pepper had regained her stability and moved away a foot or two. She was momentarily frozen. Maybe from seeing Tony go toe to toe with a guy who had a sword and was probably four or five years older than him. Maybe not, though. Either way, she shook it off quickly enough. 

Or not because there was her best friend. With a sword through his shoulder and an arm around the tribute’s neck. That was when she needed to interfere. She couldn’t let Tony kill someone like that. And she wouldn't let him die either. Even if that meant she had to kill someone. (Or at least, that’s what could be surmised by the fire in her eyes.)

It was the work of a second to locate her dagger and throw it. Her aim was perfect, it always had been. Tony let go of the older boy as soon as a thunk sounded out followed quickly by a harsh, gurgling gasp. The tribute had a knife through his left eye and blood running everywhere. A canon’s boom confirmed what they both already knew—the other tribute was dead.

“Fuck,” Tony said as he bent over to catch his breath and suddenly remembered the sword. 

“Shit! Tony, are you okay?” They both knew he obviously wasn’t okay, but that wasn’t what she was really asking. _‘Will you survive?’_ That was the real question. 

“Yeah, Pep. I think I’m good. The blade cauterized the wound immediately so I should just be able to-“ and he yanked the sword from his shoulder with an agonized cry he barely held behind his clenched teeth, “do that.” 

“Tony! You can’t just do that sort of thing! I need notice!” 

“I didn’t want to think about it!”

“Fine!” 

Both were panting heavily with fading adrenaline and panic. Slowly, they started laughing. It shocked every audience member in Panem. Usually, kids don’t laugh during the Hunger Games unless they’re psychopaths or delusional. Pepper and Tony were neither, but there they were, laughing with a force that brought tears to their eyes while a boy their age bled out into the sand. Suddenly, it was apparent that if they hadn’t started laughing, they would’ve started crying. No one knew how to react to that. 

It took them a while, and the rising heat, to stop. Eventually though, Tony had to check his wound. It was charred black and, if the look on his face meant anything, it probably smelled like death. 

“Can we do anything for it?”

“I don’t think so, Pep. Not with what we have. I’ll just have to deal.” They dragged their small amount of belongings about thirty feet away from the tribute’s body, and when they looked back, it was gone—blood and all. 

“Two left,” Pepper sighed carefully.

“Two left,” Tony agreed. They didn’t talk for the rest of the night. Neither slept. And neither acknowledged the fact that there were four tributes left. Tony, Pepper, and two others. Two left, they had said. What they hadn’t said? Three left. Only one person can win the Hunger Games. That’s what they spent their night studiously ignoring. And when the sun began to climb the sky once more, they packed up and started walking. 

There were no words exchanged between the two. No smiles. No plans. Just silence. Weighted silence. 

Tony’s shoulder started to bug him more and more intensely after about a mile. He probably wouldn’t be able to go for much longer, so he broke the obvious tension, “I think we should make camp here.” 

Pepper looked nervous, but she agreed. Neither had to say that they didn’t need to worry about finding the other tributes. They both knew that the two others would find them soon enough. 

And they did. They came when Tony was just finishing up on his repulsor that had been banged up when he tackled Pepper the day before. He slid it on without a second’s pause and fired at the girl holding a bow pointed straight at his head. The resulting scream was enough to tell Tony that he hadn’t missed. But that wasn’t his focus. 

Pepper was frantically grappling with an older male tribute. Tony had just enough of an opening to shoot at his side without risking hitting Pepper. The teen grunted and let go of her strawberry blonde hair in favor of pressing a hand to his suddenly wounded abdomen. 

“Fuck!” It wasn’t clear who said it, but everyone could relate. Tony stared at the man for a second before whipping his leg out and knocking him over with a strike to the back of his knee. Pep took the opening and followed after with her blade in hand. A canon sounded, informing the audience how well that plan worked out. 

Pepper quickly rose from the sand with blood all over her hands. She looked at them and then up at Tony. She had a small smile, and Tony said, “so.. it’s just us, I guess?” 

The fact that only one canon had fired managed to escape him in the heat of the moment. It evidently escaped Pepper, too, as she slowly nodded and dropped her dagger. 

Out of nowhere, the female tribute with the bow appeared. This time she didn’t give Stark a chance to try out his invention, she just fired. 

It was clear to anyone watching that Pepper had some sort of momentary vision. The arrow would hit Tony in the center of his chest. He would definitely die. There wasn’t a doubt about that. Then the girl would reload her bow and shoot Pepper. They’d both die. James Rhodes would lose both of his closest friends in one foul swoop. Thinking of James was probably what spurred her into doing what she did. 

It was a close thing, but she managed to block the arrow with her own body. Tony fell backwards with the impact. The female tribute looked shocked, but she reloaded her bow as quickly as she could despite that. Without thinking, Tony lifted his repulsor. This time, he didn’t stop until he heard a canon. 

Only one. Pepper was still alive, if only just barely. Tony looked down at his friend. His family. There was a deep red soaking into her shirt. It soaked into Tony’s clothes, too, but he ignored it. 

“Pepper?!”

“Yeah, Tony?” She wheezed. She didn’t lift her head from his chest. The words were nearly inaudible. 

“Why did yo- no, forget that. Let’s get this treated, okay? You’ll be fine.” Tony wasn’t convincing anyone. Not the audience. Not Pepper. And certainly not himself. Tears were quickly welling in his eyes as he pushed Pepper’s shoulders up. 

“Tony, we know that’s not true.” Her words were lazy, and her eyes only opened halfway. “You gotta promise me something, okay?” 

A lack of composure lead to Tony wordlessly nodding his head. Tears splattered across Pepper’s face.

“You have to survive this.”

“W-What? I’m the only tribute left, Pepper! I already have.” And Tony looked devastated by that fact. Pepper shook her head and placed her hands in the sand behind her. She leaned back, and Tony closed his eyes. Not fast enough though. The sight of a bloody arrowhead peeking out of Pepper’s ribs would forever be etched into his sight. 

“No. That’s not what I,” she stops for a second, so she can let out a bone-rattling cough. “What I meant. Surviving isn’t making it out alive. Just because you win, doesn’t mean you don’t die. You can’t be like that okay, Tones?” 

The sound of Tony’s sobs and Pepper’s ragged breaths were interrupted by the loud crack of Pepper breaking off the arrowhead. She quickly pulled the rest of the arrow’s shaft out of her back. Tony’s eyes wrenched open at the sound. He watched her throw the arrow behind her. He spluttered, “How?”

“It,” she paused to wipe her mouth, “doesn’t hurt. I can’t really feel anything. It’s sort of nice in a way. At least, I can die peacefully.”

“You can’t! I won’t let you, Pep. You have to make it! I can’t leave you behind! You would never leave me…” he trailed off when she raised an arm to pull him into a light hug. 

“You aren’t leaving me behind. I’ll always be in your heart, won’t I?” 

Tony snorted through his tears as he pulled her tighter to him, “Real cheesy, Pep.”

“It’s not cheesy,” Pepper half whispered, “it’s classic.” The way she said the words implied that they weren't actually hers. She was probably quoting something Tony had said back at him. 

“Yep.” Tony could feel her hold weaken. He didn’t let go. 

“I love you, Tony.” Weaker.

“You know I love you, too.” Weaker.

“Tell James I love him, too.” Tony was holding all her weight.

“I’ll tell Rhodey.” 

“Good... you never promised.” 

“I-I promise, Pep.” A canon. 

…

“And the Victor of the 69th Annual Hunger Games is Anthony Stark from District Three!”

xXx

“Why are you showing me this?” Fury asked as he leaned back in his leather office chair. 

Natasha flicked her hair over her shoulder, and paused the video right as the victor was announced. Stark’s blood coated, haunted face was frozen on the screen.The years since the game seemed to have softened the grief in his eyes. (Or maybe he was just learning to hide it better.) She sighed lightly. “You asked me to find sympathizers to our cause. I found one.”

“I meant people from the Capitol. People with power and influence.”

“He has power and influence. In addition to that, he has more reason to hate the Capitol than any simple ‘sympathizer’ would. He’s infuriating. But not just to me. To the Capitol—the President can’t control him, and he can’t just have him killed. Stark’s the most popular victor since Steve Rogers. Add to that, the man’s a genius. A genius with influence and more money than most Capitol citizens put together. The Capitol will find a way to take him down eventually. We need to get him on our side before that happens.”

“I couldn’t agree more. I’ve had my eye on Stark since Howard died.” The two secret agents silently smirked at each other as a plan quickly formed. They might actually have a chance at their rebellion. They’ve put together quite the team so far, and Tony Stark might just be the missing piece that completes a life-saving puzzle.   
  


-/- fin -/-


End file.
